Despite the issues on my first day at the kung fu retreat at the Qi Alchemy Loft, I decided to soldier on. Mainly because I was optimistic about what the rest of the week would bring, despite evidence to the contrary. All in all, I can’t really say the kung fu retreat was a bad experience, nor was it a good one. It was somewhere in between, with both high and low points.
Category: Adventure & Excitement
Kung Fu Retreat- Day 1
After my disastrous performance at the meditation retreat (details here and here), I thought that I should give it another shot, but with less ‘meditation’ and more ‘doing stuff that’s not meditation.’ So I dug around on the internet and I found a week-long kung fu retreat in Ft Lauderdale, Florida (which is where all true kung fu is taught, of course).
Running With The Bulls In Pamplona
Ever since Hemingway wrote about the running of the bulls in The Sun Also Rises, tens of thousands of people from around the world flock to Pamplona, Spain for the festival of San Fermin. Starting at noon on July 6th of every year, this festival is, among other things, in honor of Saint Fermin, the patron saint of Pamplona. But I’d bet that 99% of the visitors don’t know that and they don’t care. They’re here for the bulls. More specifically, they’re here to run with the bulls.
La Tomatina
Every year in late August, the small town of Buñol, Spain, home to roughly 9,000 residents, swells to close to 50K people to celebrate the tomato festival, La Tomatina. What started in 1945 as one small kid’s temper tantrum (he fell off of a parade float, got angry, and started throwing tomatoes from a nearby produce stand) has turned into what is considered the biggest annual food fight and the worst ketchup-making process in history.
10 Day Silent Meditation Retreat- My Experience
Hopefully you’ve already read my post about the retreat, here. As I said, I think it’s a very worthwhile program and it provides a valuable set of tools to attendees. So you may be asking why I only lasted 4 days. This post is unlikely to be as entertaining to read as (I hope) some of my other posts are, but here’s the unvarnished truth about my experience at the retreat, at least as I see it now.
10 Day Silent Meditation Retreat
Einstein said that time is relative, and I’m inclined to agree. Sitting in your fourth meeting of the day discussing the new cover sheets for TPS reports, each minute drags on without end. If you’re spending an evening with someone special, hours can pass in the blink of an eye. Einstein also said that, as you move faster and approach the speed of light, time slows down exponentially. Based on that theory, the meditation retreat that I just attended must be moving faster than anything else in the known universe.
Wurstfest
In the late 1800s, a German nobleman bought a large plot of land about an hour south of Austin, Texas, and made it available for German citizens to live in if they wanted to. Following the naming conventions of New York and New Jersey, the immigrant population named it New Braunfels after their home near Frankfurt. Nearly a century later, a local sausage contest grew and gathered national attention, and Wurstfest was born.
Sailing in the Caribbean
With the wind at your back, the sun shining down, and all of the freedom in the world, sailing is one of the last accessible adventures left. You can take a race car driving course for a weekend, you can jump out of planes for the afternoon, or you can spend a week trekking the Himalayas with a sherpa carrying your pack, but nothing compares to the freedom of the open water.
Bomba’s Beach Shack
Years ago, on the northwest coast of Tortola, a man named Bomba had a vision. A vision of locals and tourists, gathered together under the light of the full moon, dancing and drinking, celebrating life, and getting trippy on mushroom tea. (Hey, I said the guy had visions, didn’t I?) Years later, his parties are still going strong.
Surfing in Costa Rica
I was about halfway into my first 90 minute surfing lesson when the hangover hit. There I was, floating on the waves, under the warm Costa Rican sun, bobbing lazily in what most people would consider a tropical heaven, and my head was pounding like a 2 year old with a new drum set. I was paying less attention to the timing of the waves and more attention to wondering whether I could throw up in the water without anyone noticing. It also occurred to me that smart surfers didn’t surf drunk and good surfers wouldn’t surf hungover. Since I was neither smart nor good, I was both drunk and hungover. Pretty impressive, since I’d only been in country for less than 4 hours. But I’m getting ahead of myself.